


Of Holmes and Watsons

by Matt_Laufeyson_of_221B



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Holidays, M/M, emotional breakdown, everyone loves holidays, holidays with the holmes family, i'm not even sorry, multiple meetings, scarring backstories, the boys age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matt_Laufeyson_of_221B/pseuds/Matt_Laufeyson_of_221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock, the tall skinny boy the bullies target, meets John, the small unnoticeable new kid, one day during a particularly rough incident, over the years the two boys continue to meet and form a relationship that would be hard to break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Meeting

My finger tips were near frozen from the midnight chill. Sitting stiffly on the tree branch overlooking the city below from my favourite spot where I could see everything. I didn't have to hide here. I could relax. 

A small breeze blew through the branches making me pull my coat collar up around my neck. It was nearly one when I saw the police lights heading up the mountain. 

"God damn it, Mycroft." I muttered jumping from the tree and landing swiftly on the grass beneath it. The cars pulled up moments later and my mother and Mycroft exited two of them. 

"Sherlock, we were worried." Mycroft said in his usual tone of pompous rich boy. 

"Stuff it, Mycroft." I said as my mother hugged me tightly. They should have known I'm not going to stop coming here late at night. 

The police handed me a blanket to warm me up as the EMTs made sure I wasn't suffering from hypothermia. Then I was put into a police cruiser and taken to the large house outside of London where I lived. 

\--------

"Sherlock, will you tell me why you like to sit up in that tree at night?" The therapists voice was calm, 'she's trained to talk to children' I thought. 

"I like it there. I can think. I can avoid every one of these blasted imbeciles in this god forsaken city." My patience was wearing thin by now. This was the fourth therapist this month and she was more insufferable than the last six. 

"Why do you dislike everything here?" She asked her tone moderately offended. 

"Everyone is an idiot." I said the offence she took showed on her face. "Now, I must be off. Enjoy that secret husband your friends don't know about." I said coldly as I stood up, grabbing my coat from my chair and walking out the door. The winter chill hit me as soon as I stepped outside, so, pulling on my scarf, I walked through London's mid-autumn chill. 

\--------

John Watson wasn't an overall eccentric boy. He lived an ordinary life. Went to school, was picked on, hated math, and the other usual things. But there was one thing that intrigued him. A boy named Sherlock Holmes. 

Everyday this boy arrived at school in a sleek black car, was escorted up the steps by a man about five years older than him, and then he walked off without a word more than goodbye. 

Sherlock seemed to be the one the bullies targeted. John watched as everyday Sherlock was made fun of, called a freak, and on special occasions was shoved into lockers. 

Then there was the swirly. THAT was the day John Watson managed to make a friend and get suspended in the course of five minutes. 

John watched as four boys rounded the corner and grabbed Sherlock’s arms and legs. They dragged him into the nearest restroom and John followed. 

They held Sherlock by the ankles from their places atop the stalls since Sherlock was a rather tall and skinny boy. John went unnoticed into the stall one of the boys was in and grabbed the boy's foot. He fell onto the floor as John crawled out. He saw Sherlock swing sideways as the other boy lost his grip and caused Sherlock to slam his head into the stall side. 

The leader of the four and his helper turned just as John's fist connected with the nose of the leader. Sherlock stood and slammed the other one into the wall across from them just as a teacher appeared. The six boys were escorted to the office and ordered to sit on the seats outside as the leader of the four was taken in first. 

\--------

"Why'd you do it?" Sherlock asked John without moving his hands that were steepled in front if his mouth. John jumped as the silence was so aptly broken by the other boy's voice. 

"Do what?" John asked looking curiously at Sherlock. 

"Why did you protect me? I have never met you, nor have I talked to you before. So why did you do it?" John looked stunned at the question and sputtered to reply. 

"Well- you see- it’s actually- ah fuck it. I see you in the hall all the time being bullied and picked on. I just couldn't stand by anymore and watch that happen. So I had to help." John sighed. "My name is John by the way." 

"Sherlock. I hope you realise they will suspend us for the next five days." Sherlock said still without moving. "Way to build a reputation in your first year here."

"How did you...?"

"How did I know? Simple, I see you right now trying to sink into the background when students walk by. You have a trapper binder, meaning you haven't learned your way around even if this is your third year of high school also, you are always alone at lunch, meaning you haven't made friends, or you have but they do not share any of your schedule."  
He looked smugly over at John who looked at Sherlock with wonder. 

"That was amazing. How did you know all that?" John asked, bewilderment tinting his voice. 

"I merely observe everything." Sherlock stood up. "Well, they are about to call me in. Goodbye, John." He said just as the office door opened and he stepped through as the other boy stepped out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> credit to my beta sara. and im really sorry guys but they way it copies doesnt work all the time, so if it ever just seems incomplete please just comment or message me through my tumblr. 
> 
> url: russiansnow
> 
> again, im really sorry if it messes up a lot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im apologising for any inaccuracies in geography or climate etc etc.

I sat alone in my tree again. It was Christmas Eve and the snow fell softly muffling the world. I could see the warm lights in London reflecting off the glimmering white crystals. There were people ice skating on the river Thames and the clock tower struck eleven. The air chilled me inside and out. The quiet was interrupted as my phone started ringing. 

My hands were numb and I struggled to pull it out. Rearranging myself so I wouldn’t fall out of the tree, I glanced at my phone to see a scowling man with an umbrella resting on his shoulder. With a sigh I answered it.

"What is it, Mycroft?" I said still gazing over the city. 

"Mummy is worried again; she wants to call the police to find you." Mycroft said. I could hear my mother in the background sobbing and asking Mycroft questions about my whereabouts. 

"I'm where I always am when she does this. Why can't I just be left alone? I am doing nothing wrong, am I?" Annoyance slipped into my voice.

"Oh for God's sake, Sherlock, it's Christmas Eve just be sociable with the family for once. We have guests tonight and you have one hour to get home and look presentable for them." Mycroft hung up and I sighed. Hopping from my perch I began the trek home. 

=========

"Sherlock, welcome home."

"Stuff it, Mycroft." I said stalking past my brother and up to my room. 

"Take a shower, you smell like that tree!" Mycroft yelled after me as I walked up the stairs. I raised my hand in acknowledgement and rounded the corner into my room. 

I sat on the floor of my shower, back pressed against the wall and let the water rush down my face. Minutes passed in what felt like hours and eventually when the water ran cold I stood, dried off, and put on my purple silk shirt. 

The sound of the piano downstairs drifted up into my room. I grabbed my violin case knowing they would only ask me to go up and get it anyways. Chatter from our usual family Christmas party reached my ears and I took a deep breath, bracing for the hugs and kisses and the questions of: "How are you?" "My how big you've gotten." "Do you remember your cousin?" 

=========

Hours passed into the early morning as the children were put into the guest bedrooms with their family and I sat on my bed playing on my violin. A small knock on my door startled me from my playing. 

"Enter." I said setting my violin down as the door to my room opened. 

"Sherlock, we have more guests coming tomorrow and everyone is staying through New Years. I wanted to warn you that we have to have you share your attic with the son of a family friend." Mycroft said, leaning against my door frame. I stood up, setting my violin down and opening my mouth to protest but was cut off. "You get no say, be happy I at least told you about this." And with that Mycroft slammed the door and left me standing in the centre of my room. I picked up my violin and resumed my original piece, to try and calm down. 

========

The morning sun peeked through my window to land on my face as I sat in the armchair in the corner. I stood up to change into the suit Mycroft had laid out for me and walked quietly downstairs. 

There were four pots of coffee made by the time everyone finally allowed their children to go downstairs, and my older family emerged. 

There was a knock on the door that Mycroft rose to get. Three people entered one after the other and Mycroft beckoned me over. 

"Sherlock, this is John, Harry, and their mother. John will be the one sharing your room with you for the week. Why don't you help him with his bags?" I glared at Mycroft and grabbed the suitcase I was handed, leading John to my room. 

I opened the door and let him enter before me. "Hello again, John. I trust you enjoyed being suspended?" I said smirking. He paused. 

"It was relaxing actually. Well, after my mother finished lecturing me about fighting. How was yours?" John said, attempting to keep the conversation. 

"Enjoyable, it wasn't the first time so all my mum did was sigh and go back to ignoring me." I stood and began to walk downstairs. "You can unpack later. If I'm up here too long my mother will have another panic attack. Oh and I tend to play the violin at what others consider ungodly hours."

"Sherlock," I glanced behind me at John, "why are you being kind to me? You seem like the type to hate everyone." 

"It’s because you intrigue me." I smirked and left the room to go back into the hell of family parties. 

========

The days went by slowly, somehow John and I became friends. He was the only one who I could be around without wanting to put my head through the window. 

"Sherlock, where are you going?" He asked as I grabbed my coat and scarf on New Year's Eve. 

"I'm going for a walk." I said my voice cold like the night outside. I hated the New Year's Eve party more than the Christmas one. 

"Oh, well, can I join you?" I nodded stiffly knowing that either way he would have followed me. 

I lead him along the route to my usual tree in the mountains. After twenty minutes my hands grew numb and I stuffed them into my pockets. 

It was nearly 11:30 when we reached the tree and I climbed up to my perch. John followed and sat on the branch next to me. We sat in silence for a while before he broke the silence. 

"Why do you look so sad?" He asked. I looked at him curiously. 

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You look sad, I can see it in your eyes, and you can’t hide that no matter how hard you try." He said and swung his legs over so he was straddling the large tree branch and facing me. 

"I just hate this holiday." I said. "It holds too many hard memories for me. This is the only night a year I'm allowed to go out alone. Mycroft sits in his room instead of going outside." 

John sat for a moment before speaking cautiously. "Do you mind my asking why?"

I shook my head. "This is the night my father died. He was in a plane, coming home from America three years ago. He was coming back for my fifteenth birthday, and his plane was struck by lightning over the pacific. They couldn't even find the wreckage the storm was so bad. It turned up a month later on the shore of Normandy beach. There were no survivors." My voice was flat with no emotion. I have repeated this many times over the years, and have grown numb to the feelings it forced into me. 

John looked at me as a friend comforts another and inched forwards on the branch to hug me. The contact surprised me at first so I just sat there for a moment. He leaned back but held me at arm’s length. 

"You blame yourself, don't you?" I nodded the tears finally breaking through my carefully built wall. I tilted my head down and rested it on John’s shoulder as the tears wouldn’t stop.

"He wasn't supposed to come home until February, but he and my mum had decided he should come home at least for my birthday. If it hadn't been because of that the man I looked up to would be alive! I wouldn't have royally fucked over my life with drugs when I was sixteen! I wouldn't feel the need to find out everyone's life story to remind myself others share my pain!" I failed to restrain myself from yelling and gave up on hiding my emotions as usual; no one else except John could see me. John simply leaned up and wiped my face off. 

"It isn't your fault, Sherlock. It was never your fault. You couldn't control the weather." He spoke softly. 

"But if I hadn't been born on that day, a great man would be alive still. Mycroft would still have a father. I wouldn't have had to listen to my mother cry herself to sleep every night for three months. They would be happy." 

"But they wouldn't have you, Sherlock. I wouldn't have a friend at a new school. I wouldn't be sitting here in this tree on New Year's Eve with you. I would have nothing but my sister and mother. I'm happy you're here, and everything you have done and the world has done for you have made you the way you are today." He looked at his watch. "It's nearly midnight." He said, glancing down at the streets. Loud shouts as people counted down resonated up to where we sat. At midnight fireworks blossomed into the night sky with their bright colours. 

"Happy new year, Sherlock." John said before hugging me again. 

This time I returned the hug tears still rolling from my eyes. "Happy new year, John."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fine me on tumblr at russiansow and my editor at whatthewooky. and i swear i should have the next chapter up soon if sara stops being a lazy ass.

**Author's Note:**

> A little fic that I managed to write out on my phone. I'll post the other chapters soon. enjoy them.


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